


Dreaming Paper Stars

by terryh_nyan



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Pre-Despair, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryh_nyan/pseuds/terryh_nyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Komaeda's sleepy. It all goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming Paper Stars

**Author's Note:**

> First, firstest, things first: all the thanks in the world to tumblr user i-demand-a-hug, who volunteered as a beta. Without her, this fic as you see it would not be here.  
> This is also sorta kinda a songfic, although the song is mostly for partitioning and atmosphere. It's called "Dead Hearts" by Stars and it's really really good so I advise listening to it while reading, it sets the mood and all.  
> Written for the six_places challenge, which I vaguely remember was a thing a long time ago and I decided to unearth for no good reason whatsoever. If you'd like, consider yourself tagged as well! Let's rob this grave for all it's worth.  
> (It also fits one of my h/c bingo prompts but my card is like from 2013 so idk)
> 
> Finally, a heads up: SPOILERS for a certain information from Komaeda's last Free Time Event.

 

“ _Tell me everything that happened, tell me everything you saw”  
_ “ _They had lights inside their eyes, they had lights inside their eyes”_

 

“So... you say you're having trouble staying awake during the day?”

Komaeda nods, hands resting on his knees and legs dangling off the edge of the observation table. “It's been happening for a while, to be honest. During classes, and homework too.”

The doctor scribbles something on his notebook in lightning-fast, messy handwriting. “What about research?”

Komaeda's eyes light up. “Oh, there's no way I could possibly let myself disappoint the researchers! That's the whole reason I'm here, after all.” The excitement written all over his face is clouded over by a shadow. “Still... I'm not sure I can keep doing my best if things stay like this. Every day I get tired out faster than the day before. No matter how much coffee I drink, after the thirteenth cup I feel like there's no point in getting any more...”

The doctor's eyebrow arches. “How many?” It's the first time Komaeda's detected any kind of concern behind his words, but he supposes it could also be simple disbelief. “That's not advisable. Not in your condition.”

He's about to respectfully argue that it doesn't really matter, as long as he can keep being of some use – but the doctor cuts him off, scribbling something with a dash of the pen that makes a pretty final sound. “I'll run this by Matsuda-kun. In the meantime, you should do what your body asks you to,” he sighs, rubbing his creased forehead, “which is, you should rest. Here's a note that'll excuse you from classes and most activities for the rest of the week.” He hands it over with a gesture so fluid Komaeda can't help but take it swiftly, even though he has all the intention to object. The doctor cuts him off again. “Take it to the Headmaster. I doubt he'll refuse you.”

And with that, the appointment seems to be over, so he politely thanks the doctor, hops off the table and makes his way to the door. One foot is already out when Komaeda turns around, struck by a sudden thought. “By 'most activities'... surely you don't mean research, too?”

The doctor's breath seems to have caught. He clears his throat, hesitating. “I'll let Headmaster Kirigiri decide.”

Komaeda's eyes linger on the folded notice in his hands. As soon as he's out of the nurse's office and in the corridor, he crumples it and throws it in the first bin he passes, yawning as it hits the bottom.

 

***

 

He really is sleepy. He doesn't know why: he's certainly not staying up any later than usual. No, he thinks, he's actually sleeping _more_ – piling hours on hours of sleep between nights and afternoon naps – and yet it never seems to be enough. If anything, he's only getting _more_ tired. It takes all he has just to keep his lids from falling shut during lectures and he doesn't even catch much of what the teachers say. His homework's turned into an endless nightmare, dragged out for so long and broken up by sudden waves of tiredness. He feels bad enough about letting his teachers down without having to worry over research too. If he became unable to handle even that – a shiver shakes his entire body at the thought alone.

He's sleepy even now, but he makes his way to the A/V room anyway. It's close by and, more importantly, each lecture at Hope's Peak is meticulously recorded so that any student can listen to it again if he so wishes, or catch up with the rest of his class if he's missed a few for whatever reason. Komaeda peeks inside – the room's as dark as ever, but it looks like no one's using it.

There's a stack of DVDs on the innermost shelf from the right. Komaeda finds his way to it in the darkness with no trouble at all. He knows the layout of each and every room in Hope's Peak Academy by heart, and this room in particular has always been one of his personal favorites. It's quiet and spacious, and the buzzing light from the desktop screens when they're on is never too bright or too dim. Komaeda grabs a pair of headphones and settles into the far-down, far-left desk in the corner of the room.

He always finds the video lectures a bit funny. Not the lecture part: that's either terribly interesting or terribly tedious, and both those things are leagues away from 'funny.' The video part, however, always manages to drag a couple of smiles from his face. In his class, Koizumi's the one in charge of the recording, and her seat being in the second row means a couple of his first-row classmates get caught on camera as well. He watches amused as one of Tanaka's hamsters scurries out of his owner's muffler and down his shoulder, off-screen, only to reappear on Saionji's kimono sleeve, trying to snatch the gummies she's been carelessly snacking on right in front of their Japanese Literature teacher – who, admittedly, is never really paying attention unless prompted. She shoos it ( _her_ , Komaeda corrects himself, recognizing the color pattern of Star-Destroyer Grey Fox Sun-D) away, uncharacteristically careful for her temper, perhaps so as not to draw the teacher's attention to her candies. Tanaka's shoulders jump slightly at the sight of the brief duel, and Komaeda can picture his ominous Lord-Of-The-Darkness grin like he'd been looking straight at him.

Ah, he could watch them forever. He never gets tired of his classmates – such wonderful individuals, filled with so much light! Komaeda finds there's always something new to learn from their interactions. They're as amazing as high-school kids come, and you usually just don't stumble upon someone that incredible by chance. He really was lucky.

As Saionji flicks one gummy right onto Tanaka's forehead, he realizes he hasn't really paid attention to one word the teacher's said so far. He sighs – he'll have to play it back, but not yet. Now Tanaka's drawing a magic circle on his notebook all around the gummy bear (does he want to curse Saionji's stash? He's genuinely curious) and Saionji seems to be mouthing unkind words and he hears laughter, too, stifled but close – Koizumi, perhaps? Komaeda isn't sure, but there's a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He hasn't felt this content in days, and he's already drifting into a light sleep before the thought that he'll never quite be one of them manages to catch up to his mind.

 

***

 

Komaeda wakes up to the low static in his headphones and the buzzing, dim light from his desk's screen. His chin is resting on his folded arms and he yawns, stretching them forward. He slides off his headphones and the room is just as silent as it was before; Komaeda's still blinking some leftover drowsiness from his eyes, so he doesn't immediately notice that there's another, smaller light glowing in the opposite corner of the room.

He does notice _something_ , however, as he rubs his eye with the back of his hand and is about to stand up and leave (it's probably pretty late already and, in hindsight, he doubts he's going to get anything done in a room that feels tailored for unplanned naps). He _feels_ it before he sees it, a gaze pensive and still, like calm water settling on his back.

Another student.

The girl in the corner opens her mouth, but a handful of seconds goes by before she says anything. It's hard to see her face. She has a hood pulled over her head, and her frame is huddled against the wall, knees close to her chest and elbows tight around her legs. The faint light from her phone – no, not a phone; is it a handheld console? – is the only thing that allows him to get a quick look at her features. He doesn't think he's seen her before.

“Good morning,” she murmurs, and her voice is so quiet, so even, it almost feels like a trick of the breeze. If they'd been outside, Komaeda would've doubted he'd heard anything at all.

“Ah, I'm sorry. That was unsightly of me. I just fell asleep in here like it was my own room: that must've been annoying! I apologize. Did you need this?” he asks, holding the DVD between his fingers as the screen on his desk goes dark automatically. It's not that uncommon that a student from a different class or year might want to take a peek at a couple extra lectures, after all. Although he guesses it's pretty strange they would bring along a game if they were planning to study: maybe that girl foresaw the possibility of a nuisance like himself getting in the way? Of course–

“...Not really,” the girl yawns, her gaze already returning to her game. “I like it here. It's... a good place to take a break.” As she rubs the corner of her eye, the fingers of her other hand don't stop dancing across the buttons of the console with the utmost precision, as if that's all they ever did.

 _Oh,_ Komaeda realizes, _of course, that must be..._

He's about to ask, his eyes already filling with wonder at the sight of this new, amazing talent, when the dinner bell echoes across the halls. The girl looks up instintively, as if in those few seconds of silence she'd gotten so absorbed in her game that she'd forgotten what that noise meant.

“...I'm going ahead.” She sways a little as she gets up, and her step doesn't look exactly steady as she treads her way through the desks in the darkness, but she makes it to the door nonetheless. She hesitates once she's there, turning around briefly. “See you.”

Before Komaeda can reply to that, she disappears into the corridor and out of the room, taking with her the only source of light.

 

“ _Did you see the closing window, did you hear the slamming door?”  
_ “ _They moved forward, my heart died, they moved forward, my heart died”_

 

Komaeda has given up on Japanese Literature, at least for now. Midterms are approaching and his condition hasn't improved one bit, so he figures he'd better focus on the subjects that _don't_ have multiple choice questions. Luckily, their Japanese Lit teacher has never handed down a test that _wasn't_ comprised of multiple choices; however, just as _un_ luckily, their English teacher greatly prefers essays and lenghty compositions, so that's what he's going to use the last of his energy on for today.

After research (and less coffee than he'd liked, but he should at least follow _one_ of his doctor's orders) he heads straight to the library, prodded in the back by guilt and a heavy sense of unaccomplishment. He's slow on his feet and, by the time he reaches the second floor, oddly short of breath.

Swallowing down a yawn, Komaeda debates whether to ask for help from the Library Committee or just pick through the shelves until he finds the _Cambridge Introduction_ he's looking for. It never takes him long to find the books he wants anyway, and he's already sorting it on his own even though there's no queue at all at the librarian's desk when, out of the corner of his eye, he notices a small opening of darkness.

The door to the archive doesn't seem to be locked.

 

***

 

Komaeda _is_ sleepy. Komaeda has never had so much trouble keeping himself upright and his brain running. Yet his mind feels surprisingly awake as he stares at the door left ajar, mild curiosity moving his feet of their own accord. Perhaps they're cleaning? No, that can't be it. Fifteen months he's been a student here, coming to the library almost every day, but that door had never been open.

Some say all kinds of files are kept there, secret ones too. There are even rumors about a detailed investigation on a famous serial killer lying in the dust. Komaeda isn't particularly sure of that, nor does he care much, but he does wonder if they're keeping the Super High-School Level profiles in there as well.

The face of the girl from the day before pops into his mind. He gets terribly embarassed whenever he thinks about it – he'd been so foggy he didn't even think of introducing himself, nor does he have a clue who she is. It's strange that there even _is_ a student he doesn't know about in Hope's Peak: to say he's researched all of their talents would be incredibly close to the truth, with a few precious exceptions he's well aware of. He hadn't thought there might be more.

Holding that thought, he gives a light push to the door. If the file's in there, he'd like to have a quick look at it, along with another couple documents of interest. It's with that hope in mind that he steps into the room completely, hiding behind the other side of the door and letting his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness.

Komaeda even expects to find someone inside. He'd rather not, but it'd be strange: at least a janitor, or a staff member, or one of the kids from the Library Committee.

He doesn't expect to catch sight of the very girl at the top of his thoughts, and he most certainly doesn't expect to find her leaning, completely asleep, against a half-bare, dusty shelf.

Komaeda carefully tipotes further inside the room, as if trying not to burst the proverbial bubble at the girl's nose. Perhaps he should burst it, though; of the thousand places _not_ to sleep in, this seems by far the worst one to pick.

“Hmm...” He waves one hand in front of the girl's face, but her head remains lolled to the side and her chest is rising and falling with a regular rhythm. Completely unresponsive.

She's not wearing her hood this time, and Komaeda can get a better look at her despite the insufficient light. Her hair is pinkish, shoulder-length, kept out of her face with a pin resembling an 8-bit character from those old mobile games, and her uniform's customized enough that he cannot tell from it alone which year she belongs to; only that it's pretty creased, as if she'd been sleeping in it for a good while now. Just _how long_ had she been in there with no one noticing?

Komaeda wonders whether it would be rude to shake her by the shoulder, just a little bit. He's about to do it regardless when her eyes blink open, surprisingly quickly for a person who seemed to be sleeping so deeply and peacefully. Her pink eyes still look a little unfocused, though. Komaeda realizes that what they're trying to focus on is his hand, still mid-air.

She raises her own, slowly, and waves. “Good morning.” It comes out as a yawn, her other hand ready to cover her mouth, a sleepy tear prickling at the corner of her eye.

“Ah... Hello. It seems we keep meeting like this.” A couple of seconds pass before she gives a tired nod, head dipping so slowly Komaeda worries that it won't rise back up. He feels like the dim atmosphere of the archive might lull her back into the realm of sleep at any given moment, and he's not sure how much of a good idea that would be.

“Well, I think we should probably introduce ourselves at this point, but perhaps it's better if we do it somewhere else?” he suggests. “You're already nodding off again.”

“... Oh. That's true.”

It takes her a few moments to find her balance and sway off the shelf she was using as a pillow. As she takes careful steps toward the door, Komaeda catches sight of a pretty interesting title on the very shelf the girl was resting against. He looks back toward the door, then at the shelf again – debates staying behind for a little while longer, fingers almost reaching out to it... and then he follows the girl into the library with a small, inner sigh, making sure her feet don't cross and she doesn't trip and fall.

 

***

 

“So,” Komaeda asks, as Nanami blows softly on her cup of coffee, “why were you in the archive?”

She looks up at him quizzically, tilting her head a little. “Ah, I don't mean to pry, of course,” he adds quickly. “It's just that I'd never been there myself, and I found it strange that a student was allowed inside. Did you perhaps wander in by mistake?”

“Oh, that.” She's looking more awake already, Komaeda thinks, although her demeanor remains on the slow, sleepy side. She might just be that type of person, though: the one who always goes at her own pace, no matter the situation. At least, that's the kind of vibe he gets from her, as she goes to sip on her coffee and then seems to change her mind, cup hovering above the table between her two, small hands. “I wanted to take a nap. Going to the library makes me sleepy. I saw the room and I thought it looked... nice, so I went in.”

“And you just fell asleep against the shelves?” Komaeda can't help but laugh a little at the surreality of the scene.

“... That's right. I think.”

She doesn't bat an eye, like she's used to it. Komaeda's starting to think she probably is.

“That sounds a bit dangerous.”

There it goes again, that big question mark over her head. “Why?”

Komaeda laughs nervously. “Well, for starters, I don't think anyone's supposed to be in there. You might've gotten caught and given detention." Although he guesses it doesn't make for a very compelling argument, coming from him. “Not to mention it doesn't sound particularly safe to just fall asleep in random places inside the school building. What if you get locked in? Or someone finds you?” He feels a shiver run down his spine at the thought of someone like a certain classmate of his stumbling across a sleeping girl in a dark, deserted room.

Nanami just blinks at him, unfazed. “But someone _did_ find me.” Her stare is steady and calm, like a puddle of clear water, hiding nothing and reflecting everything with the utmost honesty: Komaeda finds himself both drawn to and wary of that gaze, in a way he can't quite explain. “And offered me coffee.” As if for demonstration purpose, she raises the cup between her hands, careful not to spill a drop.

He feels taken aback, if just a little, by such a display of unconditional trust.

“I see.” He smiles, playfully. “You're the innocent type, aren't you.”

Nanami's cheeks puff out, a pout playing on her lips.

“I'm joking!” Komaeda adds, hurriedly, and Nanami's cheeks un-puff just a little. Her face still somewhat resembles that of Tanaka's hamsters during feeding time when she asks, looking a tad bit miffed: “Aren't you the same?”

“Huh?”

Her stare goes vacant for a handful of seconds, as if she were picking her words carefully, one by one. “Last time,” she finally says, tilting her head to the side, “weren't you sleeping in the A/V room on your own?”

There's nothing technically wrong with her statement, but he still feels the need to think it over before replying. What bothers him is that it's _not_ the same thing in many ways: that he hadn't _planned_ on it or taken it in stride, for starters. He concludes that it's probably the safest answer he could give, when Nanami unexpectedly takes the problem from his hands. Like a small lightbulb going off in her head, she adds: “Ah, but you're a boy, so that's probably why you weren't worried...”

Komaeda's thankful for the way out. “Something like that, yeah.”

They make small talk for a couple more minutes, until Nanami announces that she's feeling awake enough to walk back to her dorm room. “I should get some study done before dinner... I think.” She says 'study' in a way that sounds a lot to him like 'sleep,' but Komaeda doesn't press.

“Oh, right. Me too, actually.”

They part ways in the corridor, Komaeda going back to looking for his _Cambridge Introduction_ and Nanami stumbling toward the stairs. Before taking the first step down, she turns around, her quiet voice meeting Komaeda's carefree wave. “Thanks for the coffee.”

In the blink between her words and his 'Don't mention it,' she disappears behind the corner.

 

***

 

Komaeda does find his _Cambridge Introduction_. He goes outside to read it; the library's too warm and comfortable and silent and it makes all of his tiredness crash on his shoulders at once. The courtyard's pretty quiet too, but the air is fresh and it prickles at his skin, and Komaeda finds a nice spot under a lamppost, telling himself that a little chill is just what he needs to keep himself awake.

He's sleeping before he gets to the second page of the preface.

 

“ _Please, please, tell me what they looked like, did they seem afraid of you?”  
_ “ _They were kids that I once knew, they were kids that I once knew”_

 

At first, he doesn't even realize that he's not in his bed.

There's warmth spreading through his body, surrounding him in a cozyness matched only by his usual mountain of blankets. It reminds him of when he was still a child and his dog used to curl up against his back, keeping the chills away even in the coldest of nights.

Realizing that he is, in fact, outside Hope's Peak's main building in what feels and looks like the middle of the night seems nothing short of a hallucination to him.

_Ah, I missed dinner._

He yawns. He's not really hungry but it is annoying, he thinks, losing track of time like this.

_Am I locked out? I guess I am._

Komaeda blinks at the black sky above his head, filling his lungs with the clean, cold air of the night, and it's a couple more seconds of fully waking up until he realizes where that warmth is coming from.

There's someone on his arm.

 

***

 

“... Nanami–san?”

He doesn't mean to call out to her. She's asleep, peacefully asleep, a dual-screen handheld console between her fingers that seems to have slipped a bit and is laying at an unusual angle on her lap. Her head is leaning against his arm, her cheek pressed against the bone of his shoulder as if it were a comfortable pillow; her cat-shaped hood frames her face like a blanket that's been pulled up and over her head, like kids do to protect themselves from chills, ghosts, and spiders.

Komaeda's voice is barely more than a whisper, so he's not sure how Nanami's actually opening her eyes. He regrets having spoken at all: she was sleeping so peacefully.

“Down, down, left...” she murmurs, eyes still half-closed. “Ah, I'm out of Repels...”

Komaeda can't help but chuckle softly. “That's too bad. You should've bought some more.”

Nanami turns toward him, her eyes already more receptive than before, a hint of surprise across her face. “Good morning,” he greets her, giving a small wave. “Although I guess that's still a few hours away.”

She doesn't say anything, staring vacantly in his direction. Then she tilts her head to the side and quietly asks: “...Why are you in my room?”

Komaeda almost chokes. “No, Nanami–san, I think you've got that wrong!” he hurriedly clarifies.

“...Ah. I see,” she yawns. “...Why am I in your room, then?”

“That's still not it,” he laughs, a bit nervously. “We're outside.”

She stretches, lifting her weight off his shoulder. The sudden lack of warmth kind of comes as a loss, and Komaeda's not sure whether he feels like mourning it or sighing in relief: it's been so long since he's had such prolonged physical contact with someone, after all, he almost can't remember what it's supposed to feel like, and it was making him panic a little.

“...Right. I remember now. We're in the tall grass, of course.”

It takes Komaeda a while to steer Nanami on the right track, but he doesn't mind. Talking with Nanami helps him stay on the right track too: having a conversation with her, especially while she's half-asleep, requires his full attention and then some, so he doesn't really have time to get lost on any other trains of thought. It's a feeling more than a conscious realization, but he's grateful for her being there. He doubts that waking up alone, outside and in the middle of the night, would've made for a particularly pleasant experience, but Nanami's presence alone is enough to turn the whole matter on its head.

“That reminds me,” Komaeda says, pensive, “why _are_ you here, Nanami–san?”

As Nanami opens her mouth to answer, an alarm goes off in her pocket. She fishes out her phone with more speed than Komaeda would've given her credit for in her sleepy state – but, after all, she's always in a sleepy state, and still her title is that of _Super High-School Level Gamer_ – and the main menu of yet another game pops up on the screen. Komaeda leans in a bit, out of curiosity, and he can see a bunch of anime girls in stage costumes. Idols, maybe?

“Ah. My LP bar is full,” she says, and Komaeda could swear her eyes lit up for a second there. “Do you mind if I play while we talk?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. I'm kind of thrilled, actually! To think that I get to witness your amazing talent at work!”

“Mh-hm.”

She keeps the volume low, but he can hear the song anyway. It's kind of catchy, too, so many different voices mixing together: Nanami's fingers dance from idol to idol without a single miss, and it comes as no surprise to Komaeda that she'd be this good even at rhythm games. Nanami did say that she was skilled with all genres, after all. Or was it _almost_ all genres?

He's so entranced by her movements that he almost misses it when she says, without taking her eyes off the screen: “I was looking for a quiet place to complete an escape game. After dinner, the halls were pretty crowded, so I came here. It was about half an hour before the gates would close.” Komaeda simply nods, dreading the idea of breaking her concentration with a pointless remark. She continues, “That's when I saw you sleeping here. I...” She pauses. One of her _Perfects_ turns into a _Great_ , but it doesn't break her combo, and she doesn't seem to mind. “I guess I fell asleep too at some point.”

The song is over. Full combo.

“I see,” Komaeda sighs. “I'm sorry I got you in this situation. You could've left me to my own devices, really! Ah, but I guess Nanami–san is too kind for that. In that case, just waking me up would've saved yourself a lot of trouble.”

Nanami's expression goes as close to _shocked_ as he's ever seen her. “...No. It goes against my honor code.”

“Waking people up?” Komaeda can't help but laugh a little. “I see. Still, it would be bad for your record if you were found breaking curfew.”

Still picking the next song, she replies: “Wouldn't it be bad for you, too?”

“Ah, I don't particularly mind. Nobody really has any expectations for me here, so, thankfully, I don't have to worry about disappointing anyone. But I'd feel really guilty if the likes of me tainted the record of someone like you.”

Maybe it's an impression, but Nanami's lips seem to press into a thin line, the muscles of her face tensing up ever so slightly. Komaeda assumes the game is just that engrossing.

He's content with watching her lightning-like fingers shoot across the screen in perfect harmony with the music. One song goes by, then another. It's a captivating rhythm, almost hypnotizing, and Komaeda finds himself breathing in tune with the music.

“...You shouldn't say that,” Nanami argues, finally, more serious than he'd ever heard her speak, but Komaeda is already nodding off again, and he can only carry those words with him as he closes his eyes, and mark them for later.

 

***

 

Nanami's still by his side when he blinks awake for the second time that night.

“You twitch when you sleep,” she says so matter-of-factly, and Komaeda wonders if, in between games, she's been watching him out of boredom.

He gives a tired smile. “I do?”

“A little.”

The light from the lamppost flickers in the dark. “Is it strange?”

Nanami taps the bottom screen of her console with her stylus. “Not really. Some people do when they dream.”

“I wonder if that's really it. I don't usually dream.” His neck feels stiff, and Komaeda tries his best to stretch it without causing himself more harm than good. “Well, technically all people dream, so I guess I do too. But I never seem to remember.”

Nanami does take her eyes off the screen, this time. Komaeda isn't sure what he should be reading in the look on her face: it's a mix of disbelief and... something else.

“...Some dreams can be pretty unpleasant. Lots of them, actually. Sometimes you'll try to read and get frustrated at the fact that you can't, or find yourself unable to run from a monster, or be confused by the hands on a clock. You're not missing out much. ...I think.”

It's not pity – Nanami's too clean for an emotion like that – but more akin to... sympathy? He can't really tell, but it's making something inside him crack and splinter and he's changing the subject before he can think too much about what that might be.

“I see. Anyway, it's still pretty dark. Are you sure you're fine, staying here until the gates open back up? We could probably climb over them and sneak back into the dorms without anyone noticing.” He glances at the chainlink fence separating them from the school building. “Well, I'm not that good at climbing myself, but I could at least prop you up a little, if you want to head back.”

“... No. I'll pass.” She pulls her hood up in an automatic movement, her eyes avoiding his for a second. “I'd probably lose too much HP from the fall to reach my room safely anyway.” Her gaze wanders across the grass and rests on the book just by Komaeda's side, a hint of curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

Komaeda intercepts it and lifts up the book. “Ah, this? I was studying it earlier. Or, well, trying to.”

“Yeah. You had it on you when I first found you... I think.” She leans in to read the words on the cover, squinting at the title. It's a bit ruined, so he wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't see all that well.

“It's the _Cambridge Introduction To Edgar Allan Poe_. Are you familiar with it?” he asks, noticing the glimpse of recognition in her stare.

“... Not exactly. I only played three of his tales.”

“Ah, I see, is there a game about them?” Komaeda feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips. “In that case, I really should've tried that from the beginning. Does it have _The Raven_ in it too?”

Nanami shakes her head. “Only his short stories.”

“That's too bad. I think it would've made for a pretty spooky addition.”

“Is that so?” Nanami accepts the book from his hands and idly flips through the pages. “I've never read it.”

“Don't you have to study it for midterms too?” Komaeda laughs. “Ah, but then again, our professor has a bit of an obsession with Poe, so it might be just our class that's stuck with him. Though I don't particularly mind. I'm a bit of a fan of his poetry.”

“What's it about? _The Raven_?”

“Not much, per se. There's a man, alone in his house, mourning the death of the love of his life. Then a raven comes in and the man slowly goes insane because of it.” Komaeda smiles. “He thinks he hears it talk, and that its caw is mocking him for his denial. In the end, the reader never finds out whether the raven's even real or just the hallucination of a lonely madman.”

Nanami's hands move to fiddle with her hood. “...That sounds creepy.”

Nevertheless, they keep talking about it for a while, imagining what kind of game _The Raven_ would make. They agree on Point-And-Click just as the sun is coming up.

“Ah, the gates are opening.” It's Komaeda who notices first, eyes following the movement of the chainlink fence sinking back into the ground. “Shall we go back?”

Nanami gives a slow nod. “It's still a couple of hours before classes start. We should get some more sleep.”

“That would probably be for the best.” They gather their stuff, and he helps her to her feet. “I apologize again for this whole situation. It's been incredibly kind of you to bear with me.”

“...I didn't mind.” Nanami brushes the grass and the dirt from her clothes, and she looks lost in thought for a minute. Komaeda waits patiently.

“I think,” she finally says, “we should go in separately. Lest we get caught.”

“I agree. We wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Nanami's the one who goes ahead first. She waves at him slowly, then disappears behind the door, careful not to make a sound.

Komaeda looks at the sky. The sun has just finished rising when the lamppost behind his back flickers and goes off, and the others follow right after.

 

“ _Did you touch them, did you hold them, did they follow you to town?”  
_ “ _They make me feel I'm falling down, they make me feel I'm falling down”_

 

They start meeting up often after that. How did that quote go again? 'There are some things you can't share without ending up becoming close'? Komaeda thinks it was something like that. Well, it turns out that getting locked out of school in the middle of the night because of unresponsible napping is apparently one of them, and he's pretty glad it is: he can't fathom why Nanami–san is still bothering with him, but she seems to tolerate his company well enough, and he's thankful to be able to talk so often with such an amazing person. His perpetual tiredness did bring him some extraordinary good luck, after all! Ah, he's dreading what the future will cook up in order to balance things out, but he also can't help feeling a bit hopeful.

It's often not on purpose, though. They'll just kind of bump into each other in the library or in the corridors sometime after research and hang out from there, or one of them will find the other sleeping somewhere they're really not supposed to and join them. It's thanks to that, Komaeda thinks, that he can almost ignore the waves of dizziness getting worse and worse by the day: the thought that he'll most likely wake up to a familiar face wishing him good morning, no matter the time. It's a new feeling, and he's too tired to bring himself not to indulge in it a bit longer than he knows he should.

But even his exhaustion couldn't make him disregard the possibility of putting Nanami in the way of danger through his luck. There's yet another reason why he doesn't currently fear for her safety, a reason he clings to with all of his being.

 

***

 

“A brain scan?”

“Five o'clock in the afternoon, tomorrow. Don't make me wait.”

Matsuda Yasuke has always been a blunt one. Komaeda doesn't remember ever hearing from the Super High-School Level Neurologist one more word than was strictly necessary for communication. If anything, he sometimes tends to leave words out, but not ones crucial enough that he'd have to repeat himself and eventually waste more than he'd saved.

Komaeda doesn't mind, though. He's actually honored that Matsuda himself has bothered coming to look for him to deliver the message personally.

“Sure, I'll be there. Thanks for–” Komaeda doesn't get to finish. Matsuda walks right past him in fast, long strides, muttering something under his breath about... some girl who hasn't shown up at her regular appointment? He has an idea who Matsuda might be cursing, so he leaves him be, listening with an amused smile to the sound of his irritated steps get farther and weaker.

He has half a mind to leave the busy rec room behind and go look for somewhere quieter, when he sees a familiar hood out of the corner of his eye, just behind his back.

“Hello, Nanami–san.”

“...I wasn't eavesdropping.” Nanami's eyes are drooping low, like a shy kid caught with her hands in the cookie jar, and Komaeda can't help but find it kind of cute.

“Oh, so you heard that?” He gives a carefree smile, dismissing the matter altogether with a wave of his hand. “It's no big deal, don't worry about it.”

After all, that _is_ his other reason.

“...” Nanami opens her mouth, but silence is all that comes out for a couple of seconds, until she seems to find her resolve. “So... a brain scan.”

“Yup. Like I said, it's no big deal.”

He can see conflict in her eyes. Is she debating whether it would be indelicate to press on? As expected from someone so splendid, she really is on another level compared to the likes of him! And he's just about to shower her in such words when she speaks again, hood pulled over her head and gaze a bit far away.

“I'm... not stupid, you know.”

Those five words feel like knives. Komaeda can feel a rush of panic turn his skin to ice. “Nanami–san, I'd never dare think something like that of you! I apologize deeply if I ever gave the impression–”

“That's... not it.” Nanami seems to be picking her words carefully, and that's all that's stopping Komaeda's river of apologies, at least for now. “What I mean is... I know... That not everyone's like me.”

Komaeda's too surprised to say anything, so she takes the opportunity to elaborate. “I know that it's not... _normal_... to fall asleep like I do. I like it, so I don't mind, but I realize that no one else seems to do it.”

“And there's nothing wrong with it, Nanami–san! It's part of who you are, after all. It's part of what makes you such a wonderful being!”

“But...” Nanami raises her head, slowly, and looks at him straight in the eyes. “It's not part of who _you_ are, right? ...I think.”

The rec room is full to the brim, and busy, and nobody's paying them any attention. Komaeda really is grateful for it: no one should see Nanami this distressed, especially because of him.

But he doesn't want to risk it, so he gestures for her to follow him behind the corner and into an empty classroom. It's also for the best that no one hears about his... condition. The fact that everyone in this school is so kind to tolerate him is, alone, a miracle: he wonders what would happen if they knew that him being worthless, useless trash wasn't even the beginning of what made him such a bothersome human being.

As soon as they're out of reach, Komaeda takes Nanami's hands in his and bows.

“I am so, so sorry! To think that someone like me would cause you worry... You really are more wonderful than words can say, Nanami–san! But you don't have to be concerned for me. See, even if something else turns out to be wrong, that's fine! That's for the best, even!”

He'd hoped to ease the worry in Nanami's eyes but, as he looks up at her, he can tell his words have had the opposite effect. Is he really no good even when it's something so important?

“...What do you mean? How can you say that?”

“See,” he hurries, panic seeping from his voice, “I don't think I've ever told you why I was selected to attend Hope's Peak. I bet you've been wondering, right? How someone like me was able to creep among people as brilliant as you?”

So he tells her. He tells her all about his luck, in detail, and Nanami's oh so patient with him. She listens without ever interrupting, without ever asking _what does this have to do with anything?_ ,and even as he's sweating from agitation he finds himself thinking about how amazing this girl in front of him is, how bright, how beautiful in every single way. And how lucky he is to have been blessed with her company.

“So, if it weren't for the possibility of something going horribly wrong tomorrow, I really would've been worried for you, Nanami–san. But I don't have to be! My luck is going to take care of that. This time, no one else will take the fall for me, I can just tell! This worsening of my condition is proof! I must be close to the end of my days. That's why fate has allowed me to cross paths with you! That's the whole reason! So you really, really shouldn't–”

It comes quicker than he could've ever predicted. A hand frees itself from his grasp and slaps across his cheek, landing with a loud crack. Komaeda blinks.

It's not the pain, really – it doesn't even hurt that much, it just leaves a burning, tickling sensation against his skin – as much as the shock. One of his hands rises to touch his cheek, almost mechanically. He raises his head, able to do nothing but stare at Nanami in surprise.

Nanami's brows are drawn together and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. Komaeda can see her hand, still raised, shake faintly, as if the slap had hurt her more than it had him; she brings it to her chest, right above her heart, and takes a deep breath.

“Those things... stop. Stop saying... those things.”

Her voice is shaking, too, just barely.

Komaeda is overwhelmed by guilt and confusion. He doesn't understand, but he's sure he must've misspoken somewhere. Ah, he never was good at conveying his thoughts. What now? It's his fault that Nanami's so upset. What has he done?

“Nanami–san...”

He can taste the question mark in his own voice, making his resolve to profusely apologize waver for a second, as if he weren't sure it'd be the best course of action. But it is his fault, isn't it? There's no mistake about that, even if part of him keeps rehearsing his words in his head and finds that it's unlikely he said anything that wasn't true. There's a great many things he would be about to say now if Nanami's eyes weren't looking at him like that.

So he settles for the one question growing bigger and bigger inside his mind: “Why? Nanami–san, have I said something wrong?”

He's fully expecting to get hit again: not only was he stupid enough to make Nanami look so unmistakably _sad_ , he can't even grasp the reason for it! He's about to apologize again, this time for his _existence_ , and he's not prepared for what happens next. Nanami's other hand, the one that he's still loosely holding, tightens its grip around his fingers and _pulls_.

Komaeda's thrown off his balance, just slightly, but it's more than enough for Nanami to surround his shoulders with her free arm and hold him in place against her body. Her grip feels somewhat angry, too, but Komaeda's too surprised to mind, and he doesn't think he would anyway.

_Is this... a hug?_

Komaeda doesn't say anything, doesn't move a muscle, almost doesn't breathe. He concentrates instead on the weight of Nanami's head buried against his shoulder, on the warmth of her fingers behind his neck and the ones interlocked with his own, on the quiet sniffles coming from her; she's not crying, no, but she's not calm either, her breathing a bit erratic and so different from the usual, regular rise and fall of her chest. Komaeda isn't quite sure why his own arm moves to settle around her back, or what makes him think he has the right. He just closes a hand around her shoulder and squeezes a bit, and a huff of laughter escapes his lips before he can think better of it, if he even would've.

“You really are... a kind person, Nanami–san.”

They stay like that for a long time, Nanami's face hidden against his jacket and Komaeda's fingers moving up to idly stroke her hair in slow, calming movements. He's not sure he's doing it right, but he scratches lightly at the back of her neck and he can feel her relax, little by little, her fingers gradually unclenching. He deserves none of this and yet he can't bring himself to push her away, not now, not when this kind of unfamiliar warmth is making a home into every cell of his exhausted body. If his cycle of luck ended right here, right now, Komaeda's not all that sure that he would mind. Or would he? There are still things he needs to do, but he does wonder.

Then Nanami lifts her head and bites into his shoulder.

 

***

 

“Ow!” Komaeda whines, “Nanami–san, what are you doing?”

“Critical hit,” Nanami mumbles around Komaeda's (clothes and) flesh, “but it's not very effective...”

“Ow, ow, ow! Nanami–san, please stop chewing on me!”

“Okay."

With a surprisingly quick motion, Nanami releases her hold and takes a step back. Just one. Just enough to stare Komaeda in the eyes and make him gulp because the determination in her gaze is _scary_ , but also kind of–

“I thought you might enjoy pain, so I gave it a try."

“Where... where did that statement come from?” Komaeda smiles nervously, all placating gestures and mood-lightening tones of voice. “Well, I suppose if you're interested in that sort of thing–”

Nanami holds her ground, impassive and unfazed. “But it appears you don't. Ah, maybe it's only the self-inflicted kind that you like?”

For once, Komaeda has nothing to say. He has a quizzical expression on his face, and his mouth opens and closes like that of a goldfish, equally silent too. Nanami pockets the small victory and presses on.

“Because it really sounds like you get a kick out of hurting yourself.”

Watching Nanami gain on him in their verbal duel is captivating. Her voice is so composed, so even, it makes her sound borderline dangerous. It is an interesting turn of events, and Komaeda wants to see it through.

“But you _don't_ like pain, do you? So why,” she inquires, tilting her head, “do you talk yourself down? Why do it so harshly? Why treat your own self as if it has no value at all? Since you don't like pain, that is.”

“Nanami–san,” he answers, spying his reflection in her pink eyes and staring back at his own, unusually blank poker face, “I think you're making a fundamental mistake here. You're placing far too much worth on my life!”

“And you're not placing enough.” Nanami's eyes turn serious again, shining with renewed confidence this time. “Your life isn't worthless, Komaeda–kun. Your life _matters_ , as much as anyone else's.”

Komaeda can tell that she can tell: he isn't going to budge. It's nice, awfully nice, to hear Nanami speak such kind words to him, but appreciating them and believing them to be true are two different matters entirely.

“I don't expect to change your mind...” Nanami says, her usual vacant expression back on, “but I'd like to show you that what you have is more important than talent, someday... I think.”

Komaeda smiles at her, but it doesn't reach all the way to his eyes. “Nanami–san, I really am moved. You're showing a great deal of care for someone–” he stops just in time, and corrects himself, “–for _me_. But I don't think I can agree that anything I have has more worth than the talent you and the other students here possess.”

“...Agree to disagree, is that it?” Nanami blinks up at him, once, a calm gesture that only highlights her resolve. “Still, I don't think that's quite right. After all, talent is nothing without life. And without faith.”

“Oh, but I have faith!” Komaeda says, beaming. “Just not in myself, that's all. I have faith in the hope you all carry, and if I can help you carry it even just one step forward, then I'll consider my life worthwhile. How about it?”

“...I guess we can work on it from there. Maybe."

Nanami's fingers slip away from his own, and it almost feels like he'd been holding onto running water. Her warmth lingers, but only for a little. She wanders over to a desk, leaning on it so she can check her phone.

“Still,” Komaeda says, moving in a wide curve before reaching her side, “I'd like to somehow apologize for all I've put you through today.”

Nanami shakes her head. “There's no need. I'm the one who slapped you, after all.” There's a tinge of guilt in her voice, as if she were on the verge of apologizing herself, and Komaeda's quick to fill the silence before she can.

“Oh, don't worry about that. It hurt more when you bit me!” When Nanami stops stealing concerned glances at his cheek in favor of gracing him with a mildly annoyed frown, Komaeda considers himself satisfied. “I'd still like to make it up to you. Ah, but I wonder if there's even anything I can do...”

Nanami pauses and looks up from her phone, her gaze pensive as if she were considering the offer, or the sincerity of it. Komaeda puts on his most inoffensive smile, and waits.

“...Then, how about you let me come with you, tomorrow?”

Once again thrown off by surprise, Komaeda blinks at her.

“I don't think you should go through it alone. I'll... wait outside, and cheer you on from there. Is that okay?”

The angelic smile on her face almost melts all of his concerns right off his mind, and yet he can't help but wonder...

_Is this a test?_

He's pretty positive it is: honest in most of its intentions, but a test nonetheless, and not a particularly tricky one, either. He could get out of it with a good enough excuse, if he wanted to – _I'm sorry! Matsuda–kun won't let me bring anyone along_ , or a simple _Nanami–san, I'd rather not have anybody else around_. But he doesn't. The thought of someone waiting for him on the other side of the door, no matter how undeserved, feels oddly comforting.

Also, he's tired. He doesn't realize just how much until he sees Nanami rub the corner of her eye and lean against the wall, her body clearly hungering for a nap but her brain still clinging onto the last of her attention, waiting for an answer.

“That's fine by me,” he eventually gives in. “I think you'll grow terribly bored, though! But if that's what you want, Nanami–san, then I have no complaints.”

That's all she needs to hear, apparently. She nods absently, and her nod turns into a full-on sleep mode as her head stays bowed, her body relaxing all at once against the white wall of the classroom and her feet dangling idly from the desk. Like a doll whose strings had been strained dangerously close to their breaking point.

Komaeda doesn't think she looks all that steady, so he quietly drags a chair in front of her desk and collapses onto it, laughing a bit to himself at how much she'd scold him if she found out he'd done it to cushion a possible fall. He takes that thought with him as he sinks into a deep sleep, and has just the time to regret that, if he really does dream of it, he won't be able to remember it.

 

“ _Was there one you saw too clearly, did they seem too real to you?”  
_ “ _They were kids that I once knew, they were kids that I once knew”_

 

Nanami blinks awake under neon lights.

Focusing enough to recognize her surroundings always takes her a minute or two, sometimes more, but today she knows exactly where she is.

A shadow greets her from the other side of the corridor, leaning against the opposite wall. It's only a few steps away from where she is, from the – plastic? Plastic – chairs she must've dozed off on.

“Good morning, Nanami–san.”

She doesn't know which one of them yawns first, but it's become a contagious habit between them, and the other soon follows. She thinks it might have been him. The dark circles under his eyes are so deep, she suspects he must _feel_ them. “Good morning. Is it time?”

“What if I told you I'm already done, and you slept through the whole thing?”

The small smile tugging at the corners of his lips tells her that he's joking, but for a second, she does wonder.

“...You just got here, didn't you.”

“Yup. As expected from Nanami–san, I couldn't have fooled you if I'd wanted to.”

At least his questionable humor seems to have remained unfazed. Nanami yawns again, and hears him do the same.

There's a small window above her head. She'll probably have to climb on the chairs to reach it, but she might just be able to see inside part of the room if she's lucky.

“How are you feeling?”

“Shouldn't I be the one asking? I think.”

“Maybe, but I asked first.”

“...A little worried. Aren't you?”

Nanami's hands are crossed on her lap, and she gazes up at him, silently.

Arms crossed in front of his chest, he laughs. “Not at all. It's strange, but I feel like, whatever happens today, I'll come out a winner.”

It's a lie. Or is it?

“Perhaps I'm just feeling lucky,” he sighs, another half, hollow laugh leaving his lips.

“...I see. That's good.”

Time passes in silence, the seconds ticking by on the clock above his head. It's a bit too far up, she thinks, and perhaps that's why she can't read the time, but it doesn't seem to matter. A girl with long, red hair comes out of the room which she supposes is the biology lab, skipping with joy. Her face is buried inside a notebook, and she doesn't spare a glance for either of them, too absorbed writing down something with enthusiastic strokes. It's a brief meeting, but Nanami thinks she looks happy.

“Oh, that's my cue.” His back leaves the wall, and he buries his hands into his pockets, rocking briefly on his heels. “I shouldn't be long, but of course, you can leave anytime if you're bored, Nanami–san.”

“...I won't leave.”

A small smile. “Then how about we get some studying done, after this?”

“I'd like that." She rises from her chair, a hand over her heart. “Good luck.”

“...Oh, I can promise that. Thanks.”

With an expression she can't quite decipher, he walks into the lab, door closing behind his back.

 

***

 

Dangling his feet from the observation table, Komaeda takes the results from Matsuda's outstretched hand. Not that he can understand the scans by himself, but he supposes it's procedure, so he keeps his eyes on them as Matsuda explains what they mean.

“So this is why I'm always tired?”

“Yes. It's not particularly serious, considering the worse sides of your condition, but it might have produced side-effects. Before I write you a prescription, I'll need to know about those.” He takes the scans back as soon as Komaeda holds them out and nods in understanding, placing them on his desk and fishing out a pen and a small notebook from the orderly chaos of his things.

Komaeda takes the opportunity to look toward the window. He can see Nanami there, blinking at him, eyes both expectant and patient, somehow. He wonders if she's reading too much into his expression, perhaps a worry that definitely isn't there, because she presses a hand to the glass and offers him a comical thumbs-up. Komaeda laughs silently, returning it as discreetly as he can.

“Have you been having nightmares?” Komaeda shakes his head. “Nausea? Headaches?” Matsuda crosses some words off the list. “Hallucinations?”

Komaeda pauses. He looks up at Nanami one more time, her thumb pressed against the smooth glass of the small window. The effort of standing on the tips of her toes shows in her cheeks, dusted in pink. Paired with her encouraging expression, it's almost enough to make him laugh out loud, and Komaeda distantly wonders if it'd really matter after all.

“No,” he says, and if his smile is making Matsuda's brows draw together in confusion and irritation, for once, he doesn't mind. “Not at all.”


End file.
